The Sun had sunk behind vast Tomerit, [25.B.]

And Laos wide and fierce came roaring by; [26.B.]

The shades of wonted night were gathering yet,

When, down the steep banks winding warily,

Childe Harold saw, like meteors in the sky,[155]

The glittering minarets of Tepalen,

Whose walls o'erlook the stream; and drawing nigh,

He heard the busy hum of warrior-men

Swelling the breeze that sighed along the lengthening glen.